Midnight Confessions
by Katy Williams
Summary: Holby City Ric and Connie fic. Warning: Includes sexual references and scenes of a sexual nature.
1. Chapter 1

"What are you hiding from?" Comes a voice from behind me, and for a few seconds, a smile appears on my face as I reply; my worsening mood is lifted momentarily. "Temptation"

"Ah" she says, far too knowingly for my liking. "So you thought an alcohol problem was better than a gambling one?"

"It's cheaper" I argue glumly, staring into the bottom of my glass as she orders herself a drink.

"Lonely too"

I raise my eyebrows. "Speaking from experience?"

She sidesteps the question skilfully, a dry undertone appearing in her voice. "It was merely an observation."

"Of what?" I ask bitterly. "I'm not drunk yet."

"I can see the signs" She says perceptively and I look up sceptically. "Oh yes?"

She holds out her fingers, crossing them off as she speaks. "Bitterness, self-pity and the misguided belief that a vice helps things."

"It's been making me feel a hell of a lot better" I dispute ill-temperedly.

She waves my statement away as nonsense. "Temporary."

"Can you suggest a more permanent relief?" I ask despondently and she sighs with exasperation. "What's eating away at you? You may as well tell me, I'll get it out of you eventually."

I look up to find humour shining in her eyes. What the hell. "I've been going on and on to Jess about the mistake she's making, and I've just realised what a mess I've made of my own life."

She laughs softly. "You've only just realised?"

I cant help but laugh, and she smiles with satisfaction, one of her aims now complete. "Refill?" I ask, wondering how long her 'Helping the Lonely' programme would last.

"Why not" She says flippantly, "Looks like you could do with the company."

I hold up my hands. "Don't stay on my account. I'm perfectly happy to be left to dwell on my regrets alone. This is all I need" I lift up the drink and she shakes her head, before sitting down opposite me. "Lets hear it then"

"What?" I ask, baffled.

"All this "mess" you've made of you're life."

"I wouldn't know where to start" I say woefully and she rolls her eyes in exasperation. "Oh pull yourself together will you. Whatever it is, it can't be that bad."

"Believe me, it is." I say soberly, staring into my glass dismally.

"I bet I could top it"

"I would have to disagree with that."

"Go on then" She says with a smile. "Prove me wrong"

"With pleasure" I say deliberately, holding up my glass. "But first, we need more of this."

I order a round, and begin the tale gloomily. "Ok for a start, I've hit fifty"

"You're fifty one."

"Thanks for pointing that out."

"Surely you've come to terms with it by now. Anyway, I'll be forty soon, you have no idea how sobering that is." She says grudgingly, and I smile.

"Having been there and done that, I think I have some experience in the matter."

"It's different for you." She argues, taking a sip of her wine, and I laugh. "How?"

"Well for a start you don't _look_ fifty."

"No I'm sorry Connie, you aren't having that one because there's no way on this planet you look any older than thirty five, and I'm decidedly middle-aged."

She smiles playfully, a realisation hitting her. "That's what this is about isn't it? Ric Griffin's idea of a mid-life crisis."

"Actually, I've been there done that too."

She sighs. "Is there anything you _haven't_ done?"

Ignoring the question, I continue with my increasingly depressing account of my mistakes, old and new. "Since you brought it up, my little gambling problem. You've got nothing that'll top that."

"Well that depends doesn't it." She says secretively. "How much did you lose?"

"In total?" I ask, stalling for time and she nods. "Mmm."

"No comment."

She laughs lightly and doesn't press the issue. "Drink?"

I nod, and watch her with a captivation that I rarely feel as she walks to the bar purposefully, charming her way to the front of the queue and dazzling the barman with her smile. Looks like my plans of slowly depressing myself into an alcoholic grave are going to be slightly more interesting than I first thought.


	2. Chapter 2

Part 2

She reappears a few seconds later with the drinks, handing me mine and sipping hers silently.

"So how are you going to beat that?" I ask, looking forward to hearing more about the secret life of Connie Beauchamp. "You don't seem like the type to be addicted to anything, too bloody minded."

"I'm sure there's a compliment in there somewhere, so I'll ignore that jibe" She says, smiling thoughtfully. "I've never considered myself addicted to anything. But if I was, I suppose sex would be it."

"It figures " I grin triumphantly, my bad-mood long since removed by her presence, and she looks at me humorously. "Well don't you look like the cat that's got the cream."

I shrug, unable to wipe the grin from my face. "I'm not in the least bit surprised that's all."

"Mmm. Well, neither am I. I had a strict Catholic upbringing" she explains captivatingly, fiddling with a strand of hair absently as she speaks. "Sex was a taboo subject, and that makes you crave it ten times more for the rest of your life."

"The forbidden sin"

She laughs softly. "You could put it that way, yes."

"You still aren't convincing me Connie, I lost huge amounts of money, not all of it my own, and it doesn't seem to me like your fondness of all things physical doesn't negatively affect the rest of us." She smiles again, laughter shining in her eyes as I continue. "Plus there's a bigger risk with gambling, and I'm definitely addicted to it. At least you possess some self-control where your vice is concerned."

"You're probably the sole person in Holby that believes that that's true. My previous escapades haven't exactly done my reputation any favours." She says somewhat glumly.

"Well to my knowledge you haven't received any bad reviews. And if you had, they'd be lying." I say, lightening the mood a little, and she brightens, smirking knowingly at me. "Flattery will get you everywhere Mr. Griffin. But I have to disagree, my … Moonlit dalliances hold a much higher risk, after all money isn't everything."

"As much as I'd love to learn a little more about your illicit liaisons with the various members of the hospital, I have to admit you have a point there."

"I'm afraid it's far too early in the day, and I've had far too little alcohol to be discussing my sex-life in any more detail, so I'd appreciate it if we moved on… After all, I get the feeling that there's more to your depressed state earlier than your loss of a few months wages and the length of time you've been on this earth"

I look up from my drink and smile. "Well observed Miss Marple."

She drinks the last of her wine before gesturing to the barman that we want another round; Fluttering her eyelashes and sweet smiles her ultimate bargaining tool.

"Ok so you win on that account… Lets see… I alienated my daughter so much that she convinced herself that sleeping with Zubin was a good idea."

She laughs unreservedly at my obvious disgust, the alcohol beginning to loosen her tongue. "Although driving anyone to sleep with Professor Kahn cannot possibly be outdone, I have to argue the first point; at least you have children."

"I never had you down as the maternal type." I say, floundered not for the first time tonight by her revelations.

"Thanks for that Ric" She says, slightly indignant and I chuckle softly.

"I have nine of them, and I don't know which one is more trouble." I say regretfully and she shakes her head in disbelief. "See it's men like you who think that women are just baby-machines that push the rest of us into the hands of the feminists."

I laugh again at her resentment to my behaviour and decide to clarify things. "Well that brings me to the next mistake. Wife number one."

"Number one?" She echoes questioningly and I nod. "There have been four."

She giggles, before sipping her drink, thoroughly amused by my family dynamics. "So who was wife number one?"

"That would have been Philippa."

"And what happened there?"

I pull a face, "She said that she knew sex made some people happy, but for her, sex was just like having a cup of tea."

She laughs long and hard at my misfortune, tears of laughter appearing in her eyes. "So that was her out of the door."

I nod, seeing the humorous side of it. "The divorce papers were signed within the week."

"So why did you and Michael never…"

She looks down at her glass, quiet now, reflective even. "I suppose it was just never part of our agenda. He had his Charity Balls, Board Meetings and pretty secretaries… And I had crusades of my own in the hospital."

"Tell me about it" I mutter, and she grins widely. "You love it really."

"What? All the chaos you've caused?" I ask, my temper rising as the events of the day take their toll on my mood.

"It's organised chaos." She argues, looking at me sternly. "We'll get more funding from it."

"It's all politics for you isn't" I mutter cruelly and she frowns. "More funding now, means we can re-expand Keller at a later date. It's a win win situation."

"Not for the 19 year old girl who's bowel I had to remove today when a routine procedure could have prevented it." I argue bitterly.

"If you'd have had her transferred to Saint James' before she became critical, then maybe she would have stood a chance of receiving the operation in time." She snaps, and I realise that the centre of excellence is a touchy issue with her right now. But that doesn't prevent my anger from rising even further.

"That isn't fair. How was I supposed to know she'd deteriorate like that? I'm not bloody physic Connie."

"Exactly." She says glumly. "I did what I thought was best at the time Ric. I couldn't have known how it would turn out before hand, I'm not omniscient"

"I suppose" I say grudgingly and she stares into her glass, seemingly sinking into a fit of depression, muttering under her breath despondently . "And at least you managed to save her. At least she lived."

"I'm sorry" I say truthfully, knowing how raw Will's death still was to her, and she shrugs. "Doesn't change anything. Just one of those things."

I let it pass, deciding that any further exploration of the topic would leave me with burnt fingers. She looks into the bottom of her glass thoughtfully for a few seconds before looking up, seeming brighter. "Come on then, tell me about wife number two."


End file.
